


Hills Don't Go Away (They Wait)

by prettyredfox



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Hurt Steve, Protective Party, Steve Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-05-01 18:44:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14526813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyredfox/pseuds/prettyredfox
Summary: So, things seemed to be moving along as normally as they could in their small town of Hawkins.  Naturally, this is when it started to go to shit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so it's been forever since I've posted anything, due to not having a computer. But, I've been writing stuff down in my email and saving it. I'm going to try to get better about posting and updating my stuff, I swear it! And please forgive any writing errors, my email and I bump heads on how things should be typed.

Everything started towards the end of January, a few weeks after The Snow Ball. 

 

He felt a little more on track now that his face didn't look and feel like literal hamburger, though things were definitely different.  Nancy and he were still awkward as hell around each other, but they were trying.  Steve still couldn't quite get over the sick feeling in his chest every time he thought about the night he figured out everything he’d been trying so hard for was _bullshit_.  The gang of little shits he’d somehow adopted invited him to hang out often enough that he really had no choice but to at least try to talk to her .  Jonathan seemed interested in actually holding conversations with him lately, which was a new experience. He found that he liked the teen’s dry humor and wit and after all they went through together, all that high school drama seemed petty.  Was petty.  The snow was falling thick and heavy on the ground and the air was bitingly cold.  Steve had been picking Dustin up in the mornings and giving the rest of the party a ride home after school.  He would like to say he hated it, and that they were obnoxious and terrible.  But, truthfully, he liked the company even when they were being assholes.  They were his asshole kids. 

 

So, things seemed to be moving along as normally as they could in their small town of Hawkins.  Naturally, this is when it started to go to shit. 

Monday morning, after a boring weekend spent mostly by himself (Friday night had been spent in the Wheeler’s basement with the party playing some nerdy game he was determined to get the hang of and him avoiding Nancy), he shot up in bed, panting and drenched in sweat.  He couldn't remember his dream, but he felt off somehow, his stomach tied up in knots as he looked anxiously around his room. Like his body was gearing up for an attack.  He stayed sitting up in bed until his alarm clock went off, shuddering in his big, lonely house, watching the shadows as they shifted along the walls and through the corners. Eventually he got up, doing his usual morning routine to get ready for school.  

Before leaving the house, he stopped to lock the front door behind him, key sliding into the deadbolt. He was stopped in place by a sound.  So soft, so distant, it was almost just a feeling scratching at the back of his skull, pressing in incessantly.  He stood still, straining his ears, head tilted to the side as he tried to figure out what exactly he was hearing.         

 

Steve wasn't sure how long he stood there, but by the time he'd snapped out of it and got in his car to drive to Dustin's house, the kid and his bike was gone.  _'Fuuuuuck_.’  He must have stood outside in front of his car for longer than he’d thought.  Dustin was going to be pissed at him.  The clock on his dash was wrong, as usual, cause he didn't care enough to set it, so when he rolled up to the school and saw no one hanging out by their cars or by the steps to the entrance, he knew something was definitely wrong.  Did he really stand outside that long?  It hadn't seemed like more than a few minutes and he hadn't even noticed the cold until he’d gotten in the car, despite the temperature. 

He stared at the building in confusion, then leaned over to reach in his glove box. Inside was a pricey wristwatch his Dad had gifted him for Christmas.  Well, a little after Christmas since his parents had been on a vacation during the actual holiday.  It was nice, sturdy, with a brown leather band, but Steve hadn't been particularly fond of the stern talking about his future (or lack thereof) he’d received with it, so he’d stuffed it out of sight in his car.  The clock face read 11:35am. _Holy shit, there was no way_.  

 

By now, there was no reason in his mind to go to his classes, school was halfway over, and he didn't really have any pressing assignments or tests. But he also didn't want to drive back to his empty house where he was bound to just sit up in his room and listen to music all day. Plus, he would feel bad if he made the kids walk home in the cold when he was perfectly able to give them a lift. So, after some deliberation, he decided to get in the backseat and nap.  For some reason he felt drained, already exhausted though he’d woken up only a few hours ago. The car was already starting to grow chilly since he’d turned the engine off, so he pulled the sleeves of his jacket down to cover his hands before leaning back against the seats and closed his eyes. 

 

For a moment, it was silent, the snow falling on his windshield creating a blanket of quiet that seemed to wrap around him. He was almost asleep when he heard it. He froze, hardly breathing as his skin pimpled. What was that?   _What the fuck was that_?

 

It seemed closer this time, his head aching as he tried to concentrate on identifying what he was hearing. He was about to give up and resume his nap, trying to talk himself into just ignoring it when a loud tap resonated from his window. “Oh shit!”  Steve yelled, jolting away from it in surprise before peering out through the icy window. “Jonathan?”  He rolled the window down, shivering as a blast of cold air hit him, blinking blearily at the blonde. “What are you doing out of class, man?”  

 

Jonathan was giving him his usual, ‘what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about’ face as he leaned in close, nose red from the cold.  “Steve, school’s out. Everyone’s heading to their cars.” 

 

Steve stared blankly, feeling his heart start to race and his head throb.  He glanced out of the open window around Jonathan to see students exiting the building, some standing around in circles as they chatted with their friends, some practically racing to their cars to get out of the snow.  “Oh.”  Reaching up into the passenger seat, he grabbed the watch. Maybe the time had been off earlier when he’d checked it, maybe it hadn't been set right at all.  But no. The time was right. He’d lost hours again. 

 

“Are you okay?”  Jonathan was looking really concerned from his spot in the window. He glanced over Steve with narrowed eyes. “How long have you been here?  You look frozen solid.”  

 

Something was wrong with him. Possibly something of the paranormal variety.  He should tell Jonathan. Hell, he should call a meeting and tell everyone. But what if it was nothing?  Or worse, what if it was just him going crazy?  The gang had been through enough already, he didn't want to freak anyone out unless it was absolutely necessary. 

 

“A...a few hours. I must have fallen asleep. I was waiting to drive the kids home.”  

 

Jonathan’s eyes softened. “I can do it, Steve. You look exhausted. You should just go home and sleep.”  

 

“But Dustin”-

 

“Will understand. You don’t look like you’re feeling so good. Are you okay to drive yourself home?” 

“Oh yeah!  No, definitely, I’m good!”  He rushed to say, shaking his head. “Just...tell Dustin I’m sorry I didn't pick him up this morning.”  

 

“I will. But, seriously, he probably understands. Drive safe, okay?”  

 

“Thanks, Jonathan.” They exchanged smiles and Jonathan patted the side of his car before walking away. 

-

 

His thoughts were preoccupied the whole way home. Why was this happening to him?  Was he the only one having this... problem?  He hoped so. Enough shit had happened to his kids to last a lifetime.  When he pulled up to the house, he grabbed his bag and after hesitating, the watch, too.  He put tucked it in the pocket of his jeans, smiling ruefully.  At least the thing would be semi worth it, now. 

 

The house was cold when he walked in, locking the door behind him.  Steve frowned, rubbing his hands together as he went to turn up the heat.  Dinner consisted of a box of pasta from the pantry and a can of sauce.  He yawned over the pot of boiling noodles and by the time it was finished, he found he wasn't hungry anymore.  He finished preparing it, then put the food in a container to save for the next day. 

 

_ Well…now what? _   He thought and pulled the watch out of his pocket to check the time.  It was only five, but he could hardly keep his eyes open.  Going to bed early couldn't hurt, right?  Not since he’d obviously slept so poorly the night before. 

 

Steve’s house was quiet, always so fucking quiet and a lot of nights it would take a while before he could put his paranoid mind to sleep.  This was one of those nights.  He couldn't bring his eyes away from his bedroom door long enough to close them, every small creak seemed to scream through him, shouting at him that there was something in the house.  There was something coming to get him, drag him away in the night and no one would know for _days_.  Hell, the only ones who would even be suspicious was his ragtag group of misfit boys who believed in different dimensions and magic.    

 

Finally, after hours of alternating between his door and the watch he'd place on the bedside table, his eyes closed and he started to fall asleep.  The whispers came for him then. 

-

 

It was Friday night and he was driving home from dropping Will off at Nancy’s.  After much negotiation and begging, his Mom was letting the kid spend the night with his friends. Jonathan couldn't blame her, not even a little.  It’d been hard to leave his brother there, even under the protective watch of his friends.  He stayed longer than Will preferred, talking to his friends, chatting a little with Nancy.  They’d started to grow apart, no matter how hard they were both trying to make it work.  He loved her, truly, but sometimes he couldn't stand how hard she’d become.  He felt guilty thinking that.  It was only natural with all they’d been through, but Nancy seemed to have become a completely different person.  Harder, sometimes cold and unaffectionate.  It was like pulling teeth trying to get her to even hold his hand.  Sex, well, sex was easy.  She never seemed to mind that, in fact, most of the time she was the one to initiate it.  It was after, when he tried to hold her close and kiss her hair that she seemed to withdraw further into herself.  Like she wasn't there with him anymore.  It hurt.  She held so much inside, not giving him an inch as to where he’d given her all that he was. 

 

So, Jonathan had stayed for as long as he could, but mostly talking with Will’s friends downstairs, finding it too hard to share more than a few strained words with his girlfriend.  Max and Mike had been arguing about something when Dustin said something that caught his attention. 

 

“I haven’t even heard from Steve.  What the fuck’s up with that?  I would've tried to invite him tonight, but I haven’t seen him since last week and he hasn't come to pick me up or anything.”  Dustin’s face was pinched in annoyance, but it was lacking, and his tone just came out more worried than angry. 

 

Jonathan hadn't thought too much about it since he’d caught Steve out in the parking lot Monday, but the teen hadn't been back to school since.  That was unusual for him.  He couldn't remember Steve ever having taken off for more than a day or two.  “He really did look sick Monday.”  Jonathan said, remembering Steve’s pale face, the dark circles under his eyes as he just stared at Jonathan in confusion like he wasn't even sure where he was.  “I’m sure he’ll be back Monday.”

 

Dustin still looked worried, but he nodded. 

 

“Jonathan, don’t you have, you know, homework to do, or something?”  Will asked, staring up at him with big eyes, huffing in exasperation. 

 

“Yeah, man.”  He laughed, reaching out to run a hand over his brother’s hair.  Will smiled grudgingly and let him with too old eyes.  That was his brother.  Jonathan knew he was far from a kid after everything that'd happened, but he couldn't help himself.  “I’ll pick you up in the morning, okay?  You know the rules, don’t leave the house, call if anything happens…and don’t mess with anything, um, weird.” 

 

“We promise not to mess with anything weird.”  Mike said, rolling his eyes while the rest of the kids nodded in agreement.  It wasn't very reassuring.  But with Will’s insistent nodding, he finally said goodbye and left to go get in his car. 

 

There hadn't been too much snow that night, so all he had to do was scrape a thin layer of ice off his windshield and back window.  He could see Nancy’s light on up in her room and made himself not look before getting in and turning on the heat, shivering as he waited for it to start blowing out hot air. 

 

He was driving slow towards home, thinking, radio playing low from his speakers. He’d just hit a long stretch of trees when something darted out into the road in front of his car. _Shit!_  He slammed on his brakes, heart pounding in his chest as he skidded to a stop. He was afraid to look up, afraid to see a humanoid figure ready to attack. 

 

When he finally glanced up to see what he’d stopped for, all he caught was the familiar shape of someone running into the forest. _Steve_?  

-

 

He was running. Feet thumping through the thick, snowed earth, breath coming out in wheezing pants and clouding in the air. He didn't know where he was or  _why, why, oh why_ - He didn't remember why he shouldn't. So, he just kept going.

 

Screaming, he could hear screaming.  It rose up in the air, pleas calling to him, begging him to hurry.  It seemed to come from every direction, echoing off the trees around him as he ran in the direction that it was tugging him in. 

 

“Steve!”  A different voice came from behind him, an important voice, but one less painful.  It _hurt_.  Everything hurt in his brain, dug into the back of his eyes if he didn't follow those endless screams.  He couldn't stop.  He should stop. 

 

A fallen log lay in his path and he attempted to leap over it, not wanting to be slowed down.  A root grabbed at him, caught in his pajama bottoms and he went down in the snow, hands thrown out to catch himself.  _Get up_!  He told himself, arms shaking as he gasped.  His bare feet ached fiercely and his clothes were damp.  _Get up, you fucking baby_!  He climbed slowly up, _too slow_ , standing unsteadily as he prepared to take off again.

 

Something solid and strong grabbed his wrist, holding him back and some insane part of him believed it to be that damned log on the ground, trying to impede his task again.  He yanked, found it to be resilient and turned around to face what had caught him so powerfully.  Jonathan Byers stared back at him with wide eyes, breathing fast like he’d been running, too.  His mouth was moving, and Steve blinked, trying to hear what the other boy was saying over the volley of voices screaming at him to _move_. 

 

“Steve!  What the hell are you doing?”  Jonathan sounded furious and Steve almost shrank away before a part of him told him his friend was just anxious.  “Jesus, where’s your coat?  _Fuck_ , where’s your _shoes_?”  The firm grip tightened, as if he somehow knew if he let go, Steve would take off again.  Not letting go, he swung a leg over the log and followed Steve over it. 

 

“Jonathan, I have to-I have to…”  He croaked out, trying to explain, mouth not forming words.  Didn't he hear it?  It was so _loud_ , vibrating through him, it was going to make his ears bleed-his brain ooze out-

 

“Steve, calm down, okay?  We have to get you inside.  Your feet…”  Jonathan was staring down at them in sympathetic horror, like he couldn't process someone running around without shoes, but Steve hadn't had time to grab them-

 

“Can’t, oh, I can’t-Jonathan, I have to”-  Steve noticed a chattering noise, faintly noting that it was his teeth clacking together as big hands rubbed up and down his arms, trying to warm him.

 

“You have to what?”  Jonathan asked and let go of Steve just long enough to unzip his coat and yank it off, exposing a sliver of skin as his sweater came up a little. He wrapped it around Steve, pulling his limp arms through and zipping it up to his chin.  “Steve, what’s going on?” 

 

“ _The voices_ ”-  He huddled down in the jacket, breathing in deeply, covering his face with the sleeves.  “The voices!  _Please_!  Can’t you _hear_ them?  They’re so loud, Jonathan, so loud, and I can’t!  I have to find it, have to find…”  He didn't know. 

 

-

It was worse than he thought.  He should have checked on him, should have fought harder that day in the parking lot to figure out what was wrong.  Steve looked wrecked.  His face was so pale and his normally bouncy hair hung limp and greasy.  His once friendly, brown eyes were dull and distant, heavy, dark bags hanging beneath them.  He looked unnaturally small in Jonathan’s jacket, sinking down into it like he was trying to hide, his body shaking so aggressively that he feared the teen would break something.  His feet- _god what had he done to himself?-_ his poor feet were completely bare, how could he have kept running like this?  They were an angry red, almost purple and Jonathan was scared that if he didn't get them warm again, Steve would start developing frostbite. 

 

Lonnie had told him stories, terrible stories when he was younger.  Once, when the power had been cut off because Lonnie had forgotten to pay the bill in the middle of winter, he’d told Jonathan all about frostbite and what it could do to your extremities.  Jonathan had sat, huddled up under a blanket while the man had gone on about your toes and fingers falling off- _your pecker_ \- before his mother had finally gotten home and screamed at him. 

 

_“Steve, what’s going on?”_   He’d asked the shivering teen, almost absently as his worry ate at him and he tried to think of a way to get Steve home, out of the cold.  And Steve had told him.  Jesus, the way he’d looked, it was like Will all over again. 

 

“Steve, listen to me, okay?  We have to get you warmed up.  We’ll drive to my place and I’ll call the guys, yeah?  They miss you, man.”   He said soothingly, pulling Steve closer, wishing they weren't so far from his car.  “I promise.  I promise you, we’ll figure this out.  Please, just come with me.”  Jonathan was bringing him home, regardless, but it’d be much easier if he wasn't being fought off the whole way. 

 

Steve’s face twisted into a pained grimace and he clutched at this hair, dug fingers into his temples before Jonathan could grab his hands in time.  He yanked them away, drawing them close to his body once he felt how absolutely freezing they were.  A long whine came from Steve’s cracked lips, but he didn't resist as Jonathan started gently tugging him back towards the way they came.  He seemed dazed, confused again as he helped him over the log. 

 

It was a long way back to the car, though.  Longer than Jonathan wanted Steve walking on those red, bare feet. 

 

“Okay.”  He huffed, guiding Steve back to sit on the log.  “I’m going to carry you, okay?  Can you use the log to get on my back?”  Steve stared blankly off through the dark trees, eyes shifting as if he was looking for something.  “Steve, buddy, I need you to listen to me, please?”  He laid a hand on Steve’s jaw, waiting until those brown eyes were back on him.  “I’m going to turn around and I want you to climb on my back.”  He stared intensely until Steve nodded, then turned his back to him, body tensed and ready for if he tried to make a break for it.  He didn't have to worry.  Either Steve was finally coherent enough to realize he needed to get out of the forest, or he was too tired to fight, but he wrapped his arms around Jonathan’s neck and drew his legs around his waist.  Grunting slightly, Jonathan gripped his legs and lifted him up until he was secured against his back, standing still for a moment as he adjusted to the weight. 

 

Surprisingly, he wished Steve would make a smart comment, or complain about being carried like a child.  But he didn't.  He laid silently pressed against Jonathan the whole walk there, shuddering occasionally when a gust of wind hit them. 

 

They finally reached Jonathan’s car from where he’d parked it on the side of the road and dashed after his friend.  He went around to the passenger side and opened it awkwardly, trying to help a disoriented Steve into the seat.  He ended up buckling him in after watching Steve struggle, not liking how helpless he was, not when something was obviously after him.

 

When had he started referring to Steve Harrington as his friend?  He wasn't sure.  But he wasn't taking it back.  Not with how well he’d taken care of the kids, not with how much they adored him.  Hell, he couldn't blame them.  Steve was a very different person than who he used to be and Jonathan found himself growing more and more fond of the guy every day. 

 

The drive home took way too long and he couldn't seem to get his heat as hot as he wanted it to be, ignoring his own body sweltering in his thick, corded sweater.  Steve still looked way too pale and sickly, eyes darting around the passing view outside the car. 

 

“Oh, thank you, thank you.”  He breathed in sheer relief when he rolled up to his house and saw both his mother’s car and Hopper’s.  Hopper was walking out to his vehicle when Jonathan pulled to a stop, throwing open his door and he yanking his seat belt off.  “Hopper!”  The man stopped, cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he raised his eyebrows at Jonathan’s panicked yell.  “It’s Steve!  Help me!” 

 

He didn't wait to see if the man followed-he knew he would-as he slammed his door shut and ran around to the other side of the car.  He could hear his front door open as his Mom came out, most likely because she’d heard her son.  Steve’s head rolled listlessly against the seat when he opened the door and he didn't make any effort to move as Jonathan leaned across him to unclip his seat belt.  “We’re here, okay?  Everything’s going to be okay.”

 

“What the hell happened to him?”  Hopper asked gruffly from behind him.  “Is he drunk, or something?”  He gently pushed Jonathan out of the way before he could attempt picking Steve up again, hefting the teen up and out of the car with only a slight visible effort.  “Where the fuck are his shoes?” 

 

“Jonathan?”  Joyce Byers called from the porch, taking in the scene and her son’s obvious distress.  “Is he okay?  What’s going on?”

 

“Mom, can you call in the reinforcements?”  Hopper was making his way up to the front door where she held it open, Jonathan close on his heels.  “I don’t know what it is, but something… something’s happening.  I’ll explain when they get here, but he needs to get warm.”

 

Joyce nodded, reaching out and petting back Steve’s hair affectionately before heading to the phone.  As gently as he could, Hopper set Steve down on the couch, taking in his appearance in the light.  “Jesus, kid.”  He breathed, running a hand over his face before crouching down to get a closer look at his feet. 

 

“It’s…bad, isn't it?”  Jonathan asked quietly, unsure of what to do.  “He’s not going to lose them, right?”  He’d done research, of course, as much as he could on the effects of frostbite after Lonnie had decorated the inside of his head in ghastly images.  And living in a place that snowed every winter, it was important to know what would happen if you weren't careful.  They were supposed to turn black, he thought.  But he didn't know how long Steve had been out like that.  His bare toes were beet red and almost swollen looking, definitely not black, but it still didn't look _good_. 

 

“It’s not great.  But he’s not gonna lose them, okay, kid?”  Hopper sighed.  “Pretty sure if he's got frostbite, it’s just first degree.  He got lucky, I think it looks worse than it is.  Go grab some extra clothes we can change him into, these are wet.  Make sure you grab the thickest socks you have.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've proof-read like a million times, but I know there will still probably be mistakes. Thank you for reading and extra thank you to those who've commented or will comment. I appreciate everyone who puts up with my slow updates. ;)

Everything seemed to hurt, not just his head anymore.  Sometimes, through the wailing he remembered where he was, glancing around the Byers living room.  Hopper sat on his haunches in front of him, a rag in his hands and Steve watched in confusion as he laid it over his foot.  He gasped aloud at the sensation, pins and needles striking through his toes, like a thousand tiny ants crawling and biting under his skin.  He almost jerked away from it, but Hopper held firm to his ankle.  He reached a hand out for something and someone handed another wet rag to him.  Joyce Byers.  She smiled warmly at him, looking concerned as she sat down next to him and rubbed a small hand up and down his arm.  Jonathan sat on his other side, watching Hopper’s progress with narrowed eyes. 

 

_I’m in different clothes_.  He thought, noticing that he was dressed in a warm, red sweater that wasn't his.  The loose pajama pants were different, too, thicker and a little shorter in the legs, plaid where his had been gray.  When had they changed him?  He felt his cheeks warm at the thought of someone else dressing him like an invalid.

 

There was a knock on the door, loud and insistent.  Hopper rose to his feet, removing the rags and handing Jonathan a pair of socks.  With a soothing smile twitching at his lips, Jonathan moved to take Hopper’s place by his feet, gently, very gently sliding the sock up over his foot.  He made a noise, a keening sound that had Jonathan’s face pinch in guilt and Joyce pull him closer into her side.  Steve made a hard effort not to make another sound when Jonathan had to do the next one. 

 

Five kids poured into the room, talking animatedly, waving their arms around as they took in Steve’s slumped form on the couch. 

“I’m fine.”  He forced out, aiming for comforting when it really came out more like a death rattle.  “I’m okay, guys, calm down.”

 

“The  _fuck_?  Hell  _no_ , you aren't okay!  Why didn't you call us?”  Dustin yelled, tugging at the curly hair falling out around his cap, the implied  _why didn't you call me?_ heard. 

 

“I didn't…didn't know at first.  What.  Thought I was imagining it.  Then, it was…hard.  To think.”  It was still hard to think. He wasn't the brightest bulb, he knew he wasn't. Right now, though, he felt slow. Couldn't think, couldn't hardly speak. Steve felt like he was floating, head under water, not sure which way was up or down. 

 

“Steve, honey, when was the last time you ate?”  Joyce asked, still rubbing his arm like she was trying to keep his mind from drifting.  

 

He squinted, trying to remember.  "Um, what day is today?"  Shit, wrong answer.  Everyone's face went from concerned to deeply worried as they shared looks between each other that he was too tired to decipher. “I ate Sunday?  I wasn't hungry Monday or yesterday.”

 

“Steve, it’s Friday night.” Jonathan said quietly. 

 

“Oh.”  

 

“Fuck.” Dustin whispered. The kids looked on the verge of panicking and Steve felt his stomach knot in guilt. 

 

“It’s fine. I’m fine, I’m not even hungry...I’m just...tired.”  

 

Was it really Friday?  What had he been doing for the last couple days?  He couldn't remember much, his brain gave a hot throb as he tried to think about it. All he remembered was being in pain, hearing the screams and voices, trying desperately to sleep. 

“I’m gonna get you some toast, okay honey?”  Joyce said sweetly, brushing his hair out of his face and smiling at him before standing up. “Eat a few pieces and you can try to get some sleep.”  

 

“Don’t bother.”  He mumbled apologetically, reaching up to rub his eyes. They burned and itched from behind his heavy lids. “I can’t do either.  I tried.”  

 

-

 

 

His mother looked stricken. 

 

“Listen, kid, you can’t just stop eating and sleeping.”  Hopper started in, trying to catch Steve’s eyes. But Jonathan saw it. He saw Steve’s eyes glaze over and go far away as he stared off in the direction of the window, body going stiff as his head tilted to the side like he was listening to something. “Steve?”

 

“This is how I found him in the woods.”  Jonathan said, watching Steve, hoping- _oh please don’t try_. Steve was hurt and weakened in more ways than one and Jonathan really didn't fancy trying to keep him from running. In his state, they were bound to hurt him and he didn't know if anyone in the room could handle seeing that happen right now. 

 

“El will know.  She’ll know what to do.”  Mike said confidently as he stared at Steve with big eyes. All the kids did, looking so scared and upset. Steve had come to mean a lot to them since the tunnels. 

 

“Yeah.”  Hopper sighed and started heading for the front door, grabbing his coat on the way. “I’ll be back. You guys...watch him.”  The front door shut behind him and they all just sat there for a moment, everyone unsure, everyone avoiding looking at the vacant teen, everyone but Jonathan and Dustin. 

 

“I’m gonna make some hot chocolate.”  Joyce said with a sad sigh as she stood up, brushing Jonathan on the shoulder as she headed to the kitchen. 

 

Jonathan stayed where he was, tense and ready for anything in his spot next to Steve. Will sat next to him, pressing into his side in a silent askance for comfort and he wrapped his arm around his brother’s thin shoulders. “Where’s Nancy?”  He asked, looking to Mike, just noticing a lack of his girlfriend’s presence in the lull. 

 

Mike’s brow furrowed in mild annoyance before he just shrugged, meeting Jonathan’s gaze unflinchingly. “She said she had to finish her homework.  She's got some kind of assignment due on Monday.”  

 

“But...you told her Steve was...?” 

 

Mike just nodded, crossing his arms and going to join Will on the couch.  The other three looked at the small space left on the couch before sitting on the floor in front of Steve, Dustin not taking his eyes off of him. 

 

Nancy didn't come. After everything she didn't come. It was  _Steve_. Part of him was shocked, angered, but the other part...resigned.  Nancy was different than him. For her, school was important, Mike was important. She was moral to a fault and so beautifully brave and he’d been so happy when they’d finally gotten together. But he was realizing as that hot flare of passion dwindled, that they were too different. They wanted different things, cared about different things. For Jonathan, school was important, yes. But family and friends came first, always.  He would do anything and everything for the people in his life.  And Steve Harrington fit into that category of someone he’d move the world for now. God save him, _King Steve_. But that wasn't all Steve was anymore. And beautiful, strong, perfect Nancy hadn't come because she’d had homework. 

 

So, he just sat quietly next to his family, rubbing Will’s arm as he absently listened to the kids chattering, his mother making muffled noises in the kitchen. 

 

“Jonathan?”  Joyce called. “Can you help me carry mugs?”  

 

“Yeah, Mom.” He answered and made to get up before Steve suddenly twitched violently next to him, head turning towards the door. The kids all stopped talking. “Steve?”  There was no answer.  No glint of recognition in his eyes, nothing showing that he'd even heard Jonathan's voice.  

 

Then, without a sound, Steve lurched to his feet, his whole body vibrating, fingers clenching and gripping the sleeves of his red sweater. Everyone stood with him, Jonathan reaching out to get a good grip on the sweater. “Steve, hey, hey buddy, just sit”-

Steve let out a long, pained noise, the sound tearing at his heart as he looked towards the kitchen for his mom.  That sound should never come out of any of the people he cared about, not ever.  

 

“Steve!”  Dustin put his hands on Steve’s chest, giving him a friendly pat as he attempted to smile.  His hands were trembling, slightly, betraying his fear.  “Hey!  Look, good ole Hopper went to go get El, okay?  So, you should just chill, they’ll be back soon.”  Steve didn't move, didn't even blink as he kept his eyes trained on the door. His breathing started to pick up and Jonathan gave an experimental tug on his arm to see if he could somehow guide him to sit back down. 

 

It had the adverse effect, striking the teen into movement.  Steve yanked his arm out of Jonathan’s grasp, unexpectedly quick, throwing him off balance into Will and Mike before he was vaulting up and over the back of the couch. He wobbled when he landed, but didn't loose his balance or that speed as he sprinted for the door, swinging it open before everyone could stop him.

Jonathan and the kids were close behind, all scrambling to get to the door. Whether it was foresight or just plain luck, no one had removed their shoes or coats while in the living room. But Steve, shit, Steve only had socks covering his feet and no coat. “Steve!” Jonathan yelled, flying out of the door as he raced after the teen. “Stop!”  Steve did not stop, though he seemed to be seriously hindered.  Jonathan pushed himself, eyes on his red sweater in front of him as Steve ducked off into the woods. 

 

-

 

 

_Why am I doing this?_   He asked himself and the hot ache in his feet seemed to be asking him the same question. There’d been a few scattered rocks along the Byers’ driveway and he could swear that he’d found every single one of them with his feet, sending agony through him as he sprinted towards the trees. But he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.  Why couldn't he stop?  

He was vaguely aware that he was being closely followed, could hear Jonathan’s voice calling to him, his feet crunching in the snow. He could hear the kid’s panicked shouts a little further back and he wanted to stop, to tell them not to worry. 

But the screaming.   _Fuck the screaming._   It was nearly as bad as the whispers. 

 

_**You’re not good enough, you’ll never be good enough.**_   They said, egging him on, pushing him.  _ **Everyone’s going to die and it’ll be all your fault. You can’t save anyone.**_

 

The whispers were the worst. Telling him things he’d been thinking about ever since he’d found out that Barb hadn't just ran away, that he was helpless to help Nancy with her guilt, since those damn kids had come into his charge. He wasn't good enough.  His father was an asshole, but he’d been right all along. 

 

_Barb’s gone._

 

_**That’s right, you’re useless.** _

 

_It’s bullshit!  You’re bullshit._

 

_**You should just give up.** _

 

_You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington._

 

_I thought you would eventually stop all this messing around, finally buckle down and make something of yourself. I was hoping it was that girl making you loose your focus, but I think that’s just who you are. I know I didn't raise you to be this way.  It’s obvious you don’t care and you’re mother and I are tired of caring for you._

 

_**Just do the world a favor and stop being a part of it.** _

 

The trees seemed somehow denser here, like they were closing in around him, trying to encase him in giant, bony claws.  He pushed himself, head swinging back and forth as he watched the trees fearfully.  His feet slid in the snow and he caught himself with his knee before bounding to his feet again. His destination was close now, he could feel it.  The screams and whispers were twinged with the barest hint of excitement.  

 

This is a bad idea. He thought suddenly, the fear in him growing more acute with every inch he grew closer to the end. This was seriously one of the worst ideas he'd ever had, so why couldn't he stop?  Steve couldn't hear the others anymore.  Had he lost them?  Did they give up?   _ **Maybe they finally remembered you're not worth it.  Like your parents did.  Like Nancy did.**_   A poisonous voice hissed and hummed.  What  _was_  this?  What was he running towards?  

 

There was something up ahead, a carved out hole in the side of a hill. Inky blackness seemed to leak out from the opening, tendrils curling like an oily snake, reaching out across the forest floor.  Steve froze, leaning against a tree as he took the in the cavern from a few yards away.  There was no noise.  Not a bird, not the breeze, not even the whispers or wails that had been attacking his mind and body for the last week.  Nothing.  It was like the black, hungry maw had eaten away every sound, casting this portion of the woods into a malicious silence.  But, no, not just this part of the forest.  He realized that the whole way here there'd been nothing, no noise from outside of his mind except for his breathing and the sound of his feet crunching through the snow.  No animals. 

 

The blackness was so impenetrable, it was like staring into the vastness of space.  Like a giant vacuum had sucked up all the light.  The darkness spread out further, clawing towards him and he found himself unable to move, tied to the tree like he'd taken up roots beside it.  What is this?  Had this odd cavern always been here?  Something told him that it hadn't.  Something had made it, formed the hole, made itself a home here in Hawkins.  

 

  " **You're an idiot, Sssteve Harrington**."  Something whispered.  But it wasn't in his mind.  No, it was from behind him-a long, cooing hiss that sent a dry gust of rank air across his neck.

 

His eyes went wide, dread seeming to weigh him down like a stone as he felt himself slump down.  The ground rose up to meet him, fingers as thin as branches hooking into his clothes, gripping his flesh beneath.  "Stop."  He said, croaked it out as he fought to breathe around his bubbling panic.  "L-let go."  The fingers didn't stop.  The thing didn't stop.  It pulled him back until his back was pressed against whatever it was that had him, the cold radiating off it, making him shudder.  

 

**"No one will miss you."**   It said, sounding pleased.  Then, it's fingers glided up and up until they were sliding over his mouth, his nose.  Covering his eyes.  It was in that shroud of darkness and fear that his tired body passed out.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a short chapter, writing for El was...harder than anticipated. I'll get back on track.

 

 

"Guys, I think we lost him."  Lucas panted, hands on his knees as he looked around to the rest of the party.  

"No way!"  Dustin wheezed in response. The knees of his blue jeans were dirty and wet like he'd fallen at some point. "He’s hurt and hasn’t eaten in like, a week!  There’s no way we shouldn’t be able to catch up to him.”

And yet, Steve was nowhere in sight. Jonathan couldn't see his sweater in the darkness or hear his frantic breathing. It was like the forest had swallowed him up. Somehow, despite Steve’s feet and how weak he  _should_  be, he was gone. 

“We need to go back.  Hopper might be back with El. She can help us find Steve.” Mike said reasonably. 

“We can’t just leave him!  What if something’s got him?  He could be hurt!”  Dustin’s face was a mix of worry and betrayal, indignant that one of his friends would suggest leaving another out in the woods on his own. “Right, Jonathan?  We _can’t_  leave him.”

_Shit_. He didn't want to leave. More than anything, he wanted to find Steve and find him now. But they’d been stumbling around the woods in the dark, shouting for him and at the rate they were going, he was afraid he was going to loose one of the kids, too. “I’m sorry, Dustin. Mike’s right, surely El can help us. Once we know where he is, we can get to him sooner and maybe, she can tell us more about what we’re dealing with.”  

Dustin’s face fell even further, shoulders sagging as he looked out into the looming trees like he was just waiting for Steve to come walking out of them. Will patted his shoulder with a sympathetic look, the tip of his nose shinning red in the cold.  Steve didn't come trotting out of the woods and they all had to make the reluctant trek back through snow to the Byers home.    

By the time they reached the house, the glow from the front porch light illuminating the yard, Hopper’s vehicle was back.  Joyce was waiting for them and had likely been watching through the door and windows for their return.  Her face sagged in disappointment after scanning over them, noticing they were still missing one, but she ushered them inside, fusing over the red in their cheeks and snow in their hair. El was sitting on the living room floor in a too-big plaid shirt and jeans, but she shot to her feet when she caught sight of Mike shuffling in. He opened his arms just in time to catch her as she threw herself at him and they both smiled at each other in pure adoration. 

“God, you guys are gross.”  Dustin snarked halfheartedly, his face drawn and pale. 

El pulled back from Mike after a long hug, still gripping his hand in hers as she looked to the rest of the party. “Steve?”  She asked, though it looked like she already knew the answer. 

“We couldn't find him.”  Lucas answered. “He took off into the woods like something was controlling him!”  

“You can help find him, right, El?”  Dustin asked, gazing at her with hopeful eyes. 

She stared at the group for a long, intense moment before giving a firm nod, determination in her gaze as she held her hand out to Hopper.  Wordlessly, he pulled a long rag out of his pocket and placed it in her waiting hand, everyone watching as she went to sit back on the floor in the living room.  The television loomed over her, the surface dark and reflective like a black pool of water.  El closed her eyes and the TV blinked to life, the channel seemingly changing on it's own until the screen was filled with fuzzy black and white lines and the sound of static filled the room.  

Everyone moved closer, coming in to take a seat on the couch or nearby on the floor.  "Careful, kid."  Hopper said gruffly to her, passing a hand over her short, curly hair and she answered with a quiet nod.  He stepped back, going to sit next to Joyce on the couch.  

Mike sat the closest on the floor next to her, close enough to reach out and touch, yet far enough to give her space to work.  He didn't say anything, but when she looked at him, she could see what she needed to in his gaze.  The unspoken, 'I'll be right here,' came through loud and clear.  With a steadying breath, she reached up with the rag, tying it around her head.  The loose knot tugged on her growing hair, but she ignored it, breathing in, breathing out, relaxing her body as she focused.   _Steve_.  She'd gotten to know the teen a lot better since Hopper had started letting her out of the house more.  She'd only been able to go to Will's house, but it had been enough.  Mike was always there and if Dustin came, so did Steve, usually.  The few times the party had shown up at her home, Steve had been the one to drive them out there, sticking around and making them all dinner if Hopper was running late or having a night out.  

Steve was always nice to her.  He smiled and laughed at her jokes, even when she wasn't trying to make them, but he never laughed  _at_   _her_.  He was a good person, she could tell.   _Where are you?_   She opened her eyes.  Everything was dark around her, the sound from the TV suddenly absent.  "Steve?"  El looked around, confused.  She could feel something, but no one was here.  "Steve?"

Something mimicked her in the darkness, whispering Steve's name and she winced in fear, the sound harsh and sharp in the silence.  She started walking slowly, glancing around for anything-any movement.  There was nothing.  No light in the distance, no scene awaiting her to show her where Steve had gone.  Just blackness.  Then the sound of ragged, wet breathing filled the air, coming from all around her and she started running.  It became louder and louder, she could almost swear she felt it right behind her and she shrank away from it, ducking down and running faster.  Something was in the distance now, she could make it out as she closed in on it.  

It was still dark, but there was a large shape in the distance, growing larger as she ran towards it.  She came to an abrupt stop when she was close enough to see what it was.  It was a hill with a hole in it, dark and wide like a hungry mouth.  El stared, and the longer she did, the more unsettled she felt.  "Is this where you are?"  She whispered to herself.  This time nothing answered her back, but the unsettled feeling was so strong now.  

There was nothing else she could gather here, she could feel it.  Staying any longer would only bring whatever was watching her closer.  She brought herself out with a gasp, yanking the blindfold off and opening her eyes to a room full of people.  They bent close, faces full of hope.  

 She met Mike's eyes and lifted a hand to wipe the blood away from her nose.  "I know where he is."    

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to anyone who decides to read this. Comments are vastly appreciated and I'll update this as soon as I can.


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